Old is Gold
by WibblywobblyCrimeywimey
Summary: The Doctor is trapped in a gypsy ship, with his only hope of escape being a feisty young lady. Promising her the stars, she must first retrieve his stolen fez.
1. Romanian Wind

First of many to come; think of them as little episodes. Anyway, told from a side-characters POV rather than the Doctor's. Thought it would be something new and cool to try. Enjoy :)

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Music everywhere. Dancing, liquor, sweat, laughter. This is what I was born into; this was where I lived. And boy, did I live happily. I was the bastard product of two very well-known dancers. My mother and father weren't married; hell they didn't even know each other. But I guess that's what you should expect from a bunch of gypsies.

Life was easy before the Doctor came; before he came and promised me the stars. It started out like any other; I woke up, put on a dress, re-arranged the mop on my head, and re-entered the "tavern" I worked at. Men grabbing at me, pulling my skirt, with none less than a mug of our finest beer dunked over their heads accomplished by yours truly. Life was good.

Our ship had been cold for some years now. Abesoloma, the ring leader if you would, explained that most of the fuel was gone, which no one cared much about. It just simply meant that it was time for us to actually fulfill our duties as gypsies and actually steal some stuff. So, for the past few years we've been drinking, mating, and stealing from the universe with little to show. But hey, that's how it works.

Or did work, until we sucked that little blue box into our ship's hold. But oh no, we were not planning on using it for its fuel; Abesoloma just liked it's color.

"It'll be my new outhouse," he smiled upon viewing it on the radar. "A throne for a king." He'd joke. And so it was that I met this Doctor, coming kicking and screaming out of his not-so-little blue box, dragged by his arms by two of our beefiest guys.

"I demand it back, you are being _very_ unfair!" He protested, awkwardly trying to separate himself from the bodyguards.

"What, this ol' thing?" Abesoloma twirled a red cylinder on his finger, following it with a grin. A fez. A stupid old fez. "So you can take yer little box and go; so long as I get this," he jeered, placing it on his head.

"No!" Cried the man, flinching as the fez landed on my leader's head. "Anything but the fez."

"Even that new outhouse?"  
"Outhouse?" The man froze. "My TARDIS!? Bloody well she'll contain your…waste!" Abesoloma rocked with laughter.

"Oh, it's a _she_ is it. 'ell I'm sure she'll be well acquainted with me by the time I'm done with her!" The room shook with approval; yelling, laughter, shouting, music bursting in random chords. Abesoloma waved it away with amusement. "Well, seeing as our _esteemed _guest is being cooperative, we'll let him consider his offer in the pipes. On you go, chaps." With that the clatter renewed and Abesoloma caught me, taking me by the arm out to the halls.

"You'll watch 'em good for me, won't ya? I know I can trust you."

"Yea, sure. Just as long as he don't try anything funny." I agreed.

"No problem," he said, flashing his discolored teeth. "I snagged his green flashy thingy while he was too busy begging for this god-forsaken fez." With that, he gave the fez a twirl and continued down the hall, whistling his favorite "Romanian Wind."


	2. Negotiations

"Who are you?" The man looked up from where he was kneeling, flashing me a smile.

"Why, I'm the Doctor." He rolled his shoulders; trying to make them comfortable after being untied. "Why'd you untie me?" He stood up.

"I don't believe in negotiating this way." The Doctor smiled.

"Negotiate?"

"I'm a gypsy; what else to you expect?"

"Nothing, I guess." He put his hands in his pocket and gazed at the small room we were in. "These are the 'pipes?'"

"Yea. Problem?"

"No, just seems odd seems like an oxymoron, seeing as this room is pretty plain. Why is it called the 'pipes?'"

"Cuz of this," I took the lead pipe from behind my back, grinning as his smile faded and took some steps back. "Oh, come on. You don't really think I'll use it; do you?"

"Of course not," said the Doctor, letting out a nervous laugh. "Anyway," he started, clasping his hands, "you plan on negotiating, and there's nothing better I do." He took a seat, patting the ground before him. I threw aside the pipe and took my seat.

"First is first," he said, leaning in. "I want my fez."

"That's it?" I tried not to laugh. "I can get you anything you want; gold, women—and you want a silly red hat?"

"It's not silly!"

"It's silly."

He crossed his arms, a puss on his face. "I want it back."

"And what do I get in return?" I asked, warming up to his wish. After all, it was just a stupid little fez. Abesoloma would forget about it in a day or two.

"You can see the stars."

I nearly fell over with laughter. "I can already see them; and they're not very impressive." I said, after catching my breath.

"Well I have to agree with that," he agreed, wrinkling his nose. "Your ship chose a very boring place to stop."

I nodded, getting to my feet. He watched me as I circled the room. It was by far the worst proposal that had ever been offered to me. He was basically giving me something I already had, which looking back, was actually a very smart tactic. But only later did I learn that he wasn't trying to outmaneuver me; he sincerely meant the offer.

"And time," he added. "Forgot to mention that little bit."

I swiveled around. "Time? Like the future and stuff?"

He smiled, triumphant over catching my attention. "Remember that 'little' blue box Abesolami—"

"Abesoloma."

"—same difference. Remember that box I came in, that he plans to use as a…restroom?" He wrinkled his nose.

"Yea, what about it? We can't both fit in there. Was that an escape pod or something from your ship?"

He chuckled. "That _is_ my ship." He looked up, expecting me to laugh or something; I don't know. All I did was stare.

"You're mad."

"Quite."

"All you want is a fez; I get out of here just for a silly fez—"

"Not silly—"

"Whatever. And the way we escape is in that little thing?"

The Doctor looked confused. "Escape? I thought we were peacefully negotiating."

I laughed. "You're negotiating with _me_; no one else. I don't know if you thought I was a representative or something for my whole…race? But I'm not. I do what's good for me and that's it. That's the best we can do."

"Of course," he said, acting as if it was obvious. "You are a gypsy, after all."

"Yes, and so are they, and we might as well be pirates seeing as we can steal but no one can steal from us. So, I'll stroll in, ask for the fez, and tell Abesoloma that in return for the fez, you'll give him…your bowtie?"

The Doctor looked taken aback. "Now that's just mean! By the time I'm out of here, I'll be half-naked."

_That's not such a bad thing,_ I thought, calculating the amount of gold I'd get for his apparel.

"Tell him I'll give him my TARDIS," he said, getting up.

"How are we supposed to escape if we don't have your tarpiss?"

"TAR-DIS. You really are despicable."

I smiled, batting my eyes. "Darling, I'm the best of my kind."

"I've got my ways. Just get the fez lead him to the TARDIS, walk in, lock the door, and away we'll go. I'll be waiting." There was a bang on the door and long burb.

"Adewale," a voice slurred; a hiccup breaking up my name. "You be'r be done giv'n em a beatin, Abesolomama wants to see ya." There was a scratch on the door and a sigh as the man collapsed with intoxication.

"Yea, I'm almost done with the bastard," I yelled back. "I guess that's my cue then."

The Doctor nodded. "I'll see you on the other side." I rolled my eyes, pushing open the door to exit. Sure enough, my summons was passed out on the floor, a steady stream of drool coming from his mouth. Taking his legs under my arms, I continued down the hall, dragging my comrade by the heels.


End file.
